I have a problem. A big freaking problem. Her name is Tory Dixon. I’ve been in love with her since I was 17. The problem you ask? She’s kinda my best friends mum.

VICTORIA

I have a six foot, three inches tall, 22 year-old, problem. His name is Weston Banks. I’ve been pretending he doesn’t have feelings for me for the last six years. You see, fourteen years ago, I became my nephews guardian. And Weston, well, he's my nephews best friend. Which makes him ten years my junior and oh so deliciously complicated.

When I opened the front door and came face to face with Finn’s bare arse I screamed, “What the hell Finn!” I turned my back on him and faced the closed door, “What are you doing? Put some damn pants on.” “Ah, can you give us a minute?” Finn’s voice sounded small and embarrassed. “Yep, you betcha. Call out when you’re decent, we are going to be having a serious conversation as soon as clothes are back in play.” Then I re-opened the front door and stepped back out on to the porch. A minute or two later I heard Finn call out, “Decent.” And I turned the handle and let myself back in. My jaw dropped when I saw Nixie sitting on the couch beside Finn. Her face as beat red as his. “Wha— Ah— I’m so confused.” I stuttered. “I wish I hadn’t seen what I clearly just saw, but I’m happy to see you, Nixie.” Her shoulders relaxed in relief, and she gave me a small finger wave, “It’s good to see you too Tory. Sorry about—” her hand gestured between the two of them, “this,” she finished. “Me too,” I muttered. Finn was smiling brightly, and I glared at him as I plonked down on the couch that I had not just seen him having sex on. “You’re paying to have that couch cleaned.” I told him. “I watch Netflix on that couch!” I whined. “Couldn’t you have taken it to your bedroom? I mean seriously, what made you think the couch was a good place for you two to be bumping uglies?” Nixie’s eyes bounced between Finn and myself with a puzzled expression on her pretty face. I stood up, “You know what, don’t answer that, I can’t deal with this today. I’m exhausted. I just got an awesome tattoo, by the way. Just so you know. I was going to surprise you with it, but you don’t get to see the awesomeness until later now.” “You what?” Finn asked. I held my hand up in his face, “Talk to the hand ‘cause the face ain’t listening. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go scrub my eyeballs with bleach if you don’t mind.” I told him as I walked down the hallway. Every time I closed my damn eyes I could see Finn thrusting into Nixie and I wanted to hurl. My day couldn’t possibly get any worse. Talking sex and babies with Weston, then seeing Finn’s arse as he pumped into his ex-girlfriend on my Netflix couch. I needed a huge glass of wine and a scalding hot bath to wash it all away.

Author Bio

JB Heller is an average Aussie housewife in her late 20’s with a wicked sexy imagination. She and her super sexy husband are the parents of three minions, two Great Danes and a Cat who thinks she’s a person. She spends her days running around after her wildling children and jotting down stories in her flower embossed leather notebook (She is very particular about her stationary.). She’s a self-confessed Stationary Junky who’s constantly on the lookout for more. Most day’s JB can be found glued to her laptop, taking advantage of school hours- writing as fast as she can while she can. Or trolling Pinterest for her next potential muse. And when she needs a break from the voices in her head she indulges in her favourite past time, reading. Want to know more about JB? Check her out, you’ll be guaranteed a good laugh if nothing else.